She wept most of the way back to York, shaken and jolted in the empty carriage as Lowson urged on the team along the rutted roads, and wondered what comfort or happiness her new status had brought her. I’ve lost my son, she sobbed, just as I lost the others. Not one did I lose at childbed but I’ve lost them all now. If I give Henry a new life with his grandfather, I’ll lose him, he’ll never wholly belong to me again.
After a while her good sense took over and she began to consider. If we both lived at Staveley Park, Henry would still be mine, his grandfather wouldn’t get all his own way, that he wouldn’t! But do I want to live there with Henry Linton? Do I want to see that lovely house opened up so that when Matt comes home it is a home to him as it never was before. Heavens Annie, what is happening to you? To live in a house as grand as that! And think. You could maybe persuade Mr Linton to do up the cottages down in the valley, or at least mend the thatch. But slowly, slowly, she chastized herself, don’t run so fast.
And the shop. Robin could run the shop. That would please Henry Linton and it would bring in my own income, I wouldn’t have to ask him for money. She’d revelled in her independence, she wouldn’t give it up easily.
Robin opened the shop door as Lowson handed her down and lifted down her baggage. She thanked him and asked him to tell Mr Blythe that she would call and thank him personally for the carriage. Robin looked worried and drawn as he ushered her in.
‘She’s had a terrible time, Annie. I had to send for you.’
‘It’s all right, Robin,’ she reassured him, taking off her hat and shaking down her hair. ‘I was coming back anyway.’
‘She’s lost ’babby, Annie.’ Robin sat down on a shop stool and sank his head wearily into his hands. ‘My poor little Rosie. She’s heartbroken. I can’t console her.’
‘I’m so sorry, Robin. It’s hard, I know, to lose a child, especially the first. It’ll take time to get over, but there’ll be other bairns.’
‘That’s what ‘doctor said. He said it would be easier next time.’ He shook his head and wept. ‘How can I put her through that again. It’s not fair.’
‘She’s young, Robin. Next time will be easier. First time is always the worst.’
Robin said he hoped she didn’t mind but they’d used her room upstairs. ‘I wanted her near me when she started in labour, and we were that busy in the shop, I daren’t leave it.’
Annie ran upstairs to her room and found Rose lying in her bed. She looks so beautiful, Annie thought, her face pale and sad and her hair draped around her shoulders like a dark cloud.
‘I want to get up now, Annie. Robin says I must stay in bed, but I do nothing but fret when I’m alone up here. If I get up I won’t think so much of my poor babby.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘He was so lovely, Annie, so lovely, but so still.’
Annie comforted her as best she could and agreed with her that she should get up. ‘Sit in the chair today, and tomorrow come downstairs. It’ll take your mind off your loss. But Rose,’ she said gently. ‘Tha’ll not forget him.’ She slipped without realizing into her old dialect. ‘Tha’ll have other bairns and they’ll mean just as much to thee, but tha won’t forget the one you lost.’
‘I’ve a lot to talk about, Robin,’ she said as she went downstairs again.
‘Aye, and so have I. If it hadn’t been that I was so worried about Rose, I would have told you in my letter.’
‘Told me? What? Has something happened?’
‘The shop next door is coming vacant. Mr Thompson came in to tell me. He’s giving up his business and going to live with his daughter.’
‘Isn’t he selling the business?’ The confectioner’s shop was usually busy, though she had noticed recently that the old proprietor was often standing on his doorstep idly watching the traffic and passers-by.
‘He says nobody wants to buy it, he’s had it on the market for some time, but the price of sugar and flour has gone sky high and nobody will pay the prices any more.’
‘So? What are you saying Robin?’ she teased. ‘That we buy it and go in for spun sugar creations?’
‘What I’m saying, Annie, is that we take the lease and use it for haberdashery.’ His face became animated, wiping away the misery she had seen when she’d arrived back only an hour ago. ‘Rose’s father said he would give us a dowry, we could use it to set up.’
‘But what about here. What am I to do without you?’ Her own plans seemed to be dashed. She couldn’t leave the shop in any other hands but Robin’s.
‘No, no.’ He hastened to reassure her. ‘I shall stay here and Rosie will run next door. We could even,’ he added enthusiastically, ‘knock down a wall later and make a way through.’
‘You’d have to buy the building before you could do that,’ she said practically.
‘I know, I know. My mind is running on. But what do you think, Annie? Is it a good idea?’
He gazed at her, his face expectant and eager. If anyone could make the idea work and succeed, it was Robin, she decided.
She smiled back at him. ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea, Robin. It’s just the tonic that you and Rose need. We’ll go to see Marcus Blythe in the morning and put it to him.’
Mr Blythe thought it an excellent idea, though he advised that they musn’t expect to make a profit immediately. ‘You have the expense of fitting it out, carpenters don’t do the work for nothing, Mr Deane, and you will need shelves and counters and such, I expect.’
There are shelves and counters already,’ Robin said. ‘I’ve had a good look at the interior and we could manage with what there is, for a year or two anyway.’
Marcus Blythe nodded approvingly. ‘And staff of course. You must get extra staff, Mrs Deane couldn’t run it single-handed, and you will be running the drapery for Mrs Linton. But yes,’ he agreed. ‘I think it will work very well.’
He offered them refreshment. Robin declined and hurried back to the shop, but Annie stayed on, there were several things she wanted to discuss with Marcus Blythe.
She told him that she had left Henry behind at Staveley Park. He nodded. ‘You were wise. Linton is not an unkind man, though he might appear unfeeling. He has mellowed, I’ve noticed, over the last few years, and I think too that he has been very unhappy and lonely in that great house of his. So, will you go back and wait there for your husband?’
‘I think that I might, though sometimes I feel that he’ll never come back.’ She felt that she could talk to this kindly, wise man. ‘He seems to have disappeared out of my life.’
‘We will do all we can, my dear.’ He shuffled amongst the papers on his desk. ‘I have here a letter from Henry Linton asking me to add my name to his in the appeal to the Admiralty. If it is a case of unjustified pressing – and Captain Linton should have had genuine protection and therefore been exempt from impressment, then we can threaten legal proceedings. I will send a letter off today.’
She felt a great weight lifted off her mind. What it was to have influence! She thought of the press-gangs that she had seen in her youth, who roamed the streets and inns of Hull, taking by force or ‘persuasion’ drunk or sober members of the public.
She remembered the riots of the mob who tried to break down the doors of the rendezvous, held in a dank alehouse cellar or gaol, in their attempt to release the men who were held there. No clever lawyer to help them escape the navy. They were cursed to sail the seas whether or not they had a mind for it, be they tailor or butcher, drunkard or pauper, they were all thrown into the same stinking, barred hold of the receiving ship. She knew. She had seen for herself.
Robin wrote to Mr Sutcliff telling him of his proposal about the haberdashery and of Rose losing her baby. He had a letter back from him immediately to say that he approved of the plan and would come over to discuss it, and a note from Joan to Rosie telling her how sorry she was and that Lily was expecting Mr Collins’ child. ‘Meg also has a suitor,’ she wrote, ‘a farm lad from the next village, it seems as if I am doomed to be the old maid of the family, and I am so miserable.’
‘I think, now, I can safely go back to see Henry,’ Annie said about three weeks later. ‘Everything is running smoothly here and when your new staff arrive for the haberdashery you won’t need me.’
‘You go, Annie.’ Robin gave her a hug. ‘We’ll send for you if you’re needed. I know where your heart is. Go to see Henry, I know how you’re missing him.’ He grinned. ‘And go and play the lady, you’ll be good at it. I always said you were a real lady, didn’t I?’
She smiled gratefully. Dear Robin. He had always been so faithful and had an implicit belief in her.
As she made her plans to leave, Marcus Blythe advised that she borrow his carriage again. ‘No sense in buying your own when there’s one standing unused in the coach house at Staveley.’
‘There’s a curricle too,’ she ventured. ‘The squire said he’d teach me to drive it. And he wants to get Henry a pony.’ He’d like that, she mused; so would she. She thought of the times she had ridden on Sorrel. Of her first attempts to mount him at Toby’s insistence, and of the susequent thrill she had had when chasing away from the river-bank and the revenue men, of Sorrel’s hooves pounding and her own heart beating in unison.
‘Sorrel!’ she exclaimed.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Mr Blythe questioned.
‘Oh, I was thinking of the horse I used to ride. He belonged to Toby. I brought him to York but had to sell him. I couldn’t afford to keep him. I see him sometimes,’ she said, ‘he pulls a gig.’ She thought with affection of the powerful yet gentle animal; whenever she saw him she always stopped to stroke his nose.
‘You could perhaps buy him back. If you offer a good price, that is,’ he added. ‘There are few people sentimental about their work-horses, I’m sure you could get him if you wanted.’
She left his rooms feeling much happier. He had advised her on her monetary position and she couldn’t believe how much money she had. There was a real possibility of Matt coming home, she would find Sorrel and take him back to the grasslands of Staveley Park, and in just a few days she would see her darling Henry.
She had written to say that she was coming and as the carriage drew up outside the house, they were all waiting on the steps to greet her. An exuberant Henry, a relieved-looking Polly, a polite and cordial Henry Linton and a beaming Mrs Rogerson standing in the doorway behind them.
Jed took off his hat and touched his forehead as she stepped down from the carriage and then moved back as Henry propelled himself down the steps to greet her.
‘Oh, Mamma. I’m so glad you’re here at last. I want to show you my pony that grandfather bought for me, and he said that when I know how to handle her he’ll get me a little trap.’ He paused for breath. ‘I call her Whisper and I’m having a splendid time; and I’ve been very good like you said, and so has Polly, haven’t you Polly.’
He turned to Polly standing shyly behind him. Polly, to her surprise gave her a small curtsey. My word, Annie thought wryly. Mr Linton has been busy.
‘I hope you don’t mind my buying Henry a pony,’ Mr Linton murmured as he came to greet her. ‘I wasn’t trying to gain favour, but I saw just the one, so suitable for a child.’
She gazed at him frankly. He wasn’t the type of man to offer or advance a gift as a persuasion or enticement, she realized that well enough. He had given the animal to Henry because he wanted to.
‘You’re very kind, sir,’ she smiled. ‘Henry will be delighted. And,’ she added. ‘Whisper shall have a companion. I’ve traced Sorrel, Toby’s horse. He’ll be coming next week.’
Her words had such an effect on Henry Linton that she wished that she had waited before mentioning Sorrel. His eyes immediately filled with grief and he put his hand to his mouth and quickly excused himself and hurried indoors ahead of them.
Jed nodded to her and whispered. ‘Mayster was fond of that hoss. Master Toby used to ride up here on him whenever he came to visit.’
‘Yes, Jed, I know,’ she said, full of remorse. ‘I remember.’
She had changed out of her travelling clothes and was resting on the day bed in her room when she heard the sound of a bell being rung.
Henry knocked and came in. He was washed and changed into another suit and his hair neatly brushed. ‘Come along, Mamma. That’s the supper bell ringing. We have to go down.’
In some surprise she got to her feet and laughingly followed him down the stairs. There had been no such formality when she had stayed last time, Mrs Rogerson had simply knocked on her door and told her supper was ready.
Now however, Henry led her by the hand towards the dining-room, the beautiful, panelled dining-room which was never used. He opened the door and then looked up at her gleefully. ‘There, Mamma. What do you think of that? Grandfather and I planned it as a surprise for you.’
A candelabra was set at each end of the long polished table which was now covered in a white damask cloth. Ivory handled cutlery was set in three places and there was a blue and white service of plates and tureens with matching finger bowls. Sparkling glassware and silver serving-dishes glinted from the flame of the fire and the candles, and Annie looked in awe and delight and then turned to Henry Linton who bowed formally to greet her.
‘Sir, there was no need,’ she began.
‘I know,’ he smiled as he interrupted her. He looked very handsome in his velvet coat and knee breeches and frilled stock around his neck. ‘But I thought that as today was rather special – we were looking forward to you coming back, weren’t we Harry – that we planned this as a surprise for you. I remember that you said how much you admired it.’
He looked directly at her. He was trying very hard, she thought. He was making such an effort to welcome her here. He was for the moment anyway, discarding his old habits and proposing to conform.
‘So, Anna. Will you stay? Will you make this your home, yours and Harry’s?’
She was honest. ‘You realize, sir, that I am not used to splendour such as this? As I explained, I am from a much simpler background than yours. It may take me some time to adapt.’
He nodded and motioning her to sit down at the table, drew out a chair for her. Young Henry stood waiting, his eyes alight, watching to see if his mother was pleased with their preparations.
‘I do realize.’ The squire took his place opposite her. ‘We both have to adapt – to each other – as well as to changed circumstances.’ He smiled a wide smile and for the first time she saw that he too had a narrow gap between his teeth like Toby and Matt. ‘But I’m sure we shall manage, although I don’t imagine that it will be easy for either of us. We are both, I think,’ he said wryly, ‘a little short on patience. We are not long-suffering or submissive and we won’t see eye to eye. But we must learn from each other.’
He poured her a glass of wine and lifted his in a toast. ‘So can I propose a toast?’
She lifted her glass and nodded in acquiescence.
‘To us both, then.’ He reached to touch her glass with his, ‘—and forbearance.’
‘And me, and me.’ Henry lifted his glass of watered wine towards theirs. ‘Don’t forget me.’
‘How could I possibly?’ Henry Linton turned to his grandson and raised his glass. He smiled at Annie and she knew he was won over. His grandson had already found a place in his heart. ‘To you, Harry, and to your father, and to Staveley Park.’